Savior of the Broken
by 27scissors
Summary: Some people see their life as a waste, and nothing they do can change it. Especially if they've been living for centuries. Character death/suicide one shots. Taking requests
1. Chapter 1:Requests?

**I've had this idea for a while, about how I could just write some** **character death/suicide one shots. So I'll be doing that. I'll write as many characters as I feel need a one shot, or I just want to write one about them.**

 **So if any of you have an idea, I'll be taking requests. But that's only if you want me to continue with this idea.  
**

 **I honestly don't know if I should just write a first chapter to see if any one would want more or if I should just ask for requests and go from there. So I'll go with my second option.**

 **So if any one wants me to write** **character death/suicide one shots, send a request. If I don't get any I'll probably just write a few for my own sick amusement, or for the few people who will like this but don't fell like requesting anything.  
**

 **That's really only if you want to read some feelsy stuff.**

 **But if you would like to make some random request to brighten my day, (so I can darken yours) send:**

 **1\. Who dies**

 **2\. How they die**

 **3\. Who finds them (if any one)**

 **4\. Pairing _if_ you'd like**

 **5\. And anything else you want me to include.**

 **But that's only if you like my idea.**

 **And no, this fic's title was not based off a line from The Black Parade. No... it's totally not.**

* * *

 **If you think I should just write my own stuff before I take requests you can also let me know of that.**

 _ **Kiitos.**_


	2. Chapter 2:Ukraine

**Request from AphHetaliaLover:**

 **Ukraine**

 **(Includes RomaniaXUkraine, as that was requested)**

* * *

"I can't. I can't stop trying now." Ukraine was laying on her bed, trying her best to not get up and search for food. "I've been trying for too long. I do not want to give up."

She brushed her hair back with her hand. "Distract yourself. But just don't... don't think of... _that_." She referred to the last portion of food her sister had left the other night when she visited for dinner.

"It doesn't matter, you don't need it. Not yet, not until he loves you." Ukraine told herself. She had been starving herself for, God knows how long. And refused to give up on what her goal would be. She wanted Romania to love her, and knew he wouldn't settle for what she looked like in her current state. "I just need to get rid of _this_." Ukraine pinched her side. Where she felt layers of fat, there was the exact opposite.

There was nearly no meat left on her bones. Her eating disorder, of course, was to blame. Ukraine refused to eat until she saw that Romania would except the way she looked. Not that he'd ever told her she was fat or anything, but she could tell that's what he thought of her.

"He's so nice, why would he think anything bad about me?" Trying to assure herself that maybe she could stop, and maybe get a quick snack- "No! No snacks that will get rid of the progress you have made." She kept her place at her bed. "It'll be fine, I just need to stay here."

...

...

"I need a distraction." Ukraine sat up.

"I'll just take a quick shower, maybe that will get the thought out of my head." Swinging her legs of the bed, Ukraine made her way to where her bathroom was. "A quick shower. That is all I need." She undressed herself and turned the water on. The mirror caught her attention. "I need to work on this." She sighed picking at fat that she only imagined was there.

"I've been doing this for so long, maybe I never will get to be the way I want . Or the way Romania wants." She shook the thought away and stepped into her warm shower.

Smoothing her hair down with the water from the head faucet, she leaned against the wall. "I don't think I can do this anymore. Do I even care? Yeah, I do, but I have been alive for many years. I shouldn't be driving myself crazy with this." She looked down at herself. "I think I'll stop. I have many more years to live and many more ways to be loved." She nodded. "Yes, I'll just... do something else..." Ukraine slowly turned off the water and reached towards her towel with a shaking hand.

She pulled the towel around herself and barley manged to secure it above her chest. "I-I think I'll lie down when I'm done. I'm so tired." Ukraine had only manged to step out of the shower, before collapsing from exhaustion.

She had not eaten for two weeks, not counting the little she ate with Belarus when she visited, so she had nearly no energy. And even with being a nation, she had to eat something. But having not, her body could no longer function.

Ukraine lay on the floor for what seemed like hours to her, when there was a knock on the front door of her large house. She could only groan out a response, she was so tired and couldn't move. The knock sounded again, hared this time. Who ever was out there must have known that she was home, but with no one to unlock or open the door, they could not enter.

The door knob rattled. Was this person growing conserned?

 _Click-_

 _Creak_

Did this person have a key too? They always could have picked the lock. But Ukraine was too tired to think about it anymore. Her eyes slowly closed and he last thing she saw before fell unconscious, was a person kneeling down in front of her, trying to keep her awake.

* * *

 _Beep_

 _Beep_

 _Beep_

The steady noise woke her up only to find herself in a different room, a different building. A hospital.

Ukraine forced her eyes open. The room was empty, besides a few chairs and medical equipment.

Sitting up was not an option, since it would end up being to no avail. So she moved her eyes around as best she could.

The door opened slowly, and much to her surprise, Romania walked in. "Oh, I see you're awake." He walked towards her. "Y-yes. I haven't been awake long." Ukraine stuttered. Romania was right there, talking to her. Why was he there anyway? Was he the person trying to get in her house? Why?

"So, if you wouldn't mind me asking, what did you do in there? Why were you on the floor?" Ukraine's eyes started to water, "Well, I was tired, and I fell and couldn't move... I don't know." She looked down, ashamed of knowing more than what she told. About how she was starving herself. "Actually, I'm sure you were aware that you haven't been eating for sometime. You fainted from a lack of food. Why weren't you eating?" Romania asked her, not pressuring her, of course, but still being very serious.

"I wanted to look good for... someone." She wouldn't admit it was for him. "Why? You looked just fine to me before. You had no reason to starve yourself." Ukraine was frozen in shock. He thought she looked _just fine_? She had no reason to starve herself? 'D-did you... like they way I looked?" She barley got the question out, but Romania sure as hell heard it. "Yes, I did. A-and I still do." Romania's face turned red. Ukraine lifted her head back up toward him. "You are quite beautiful." He said shyly. Ukraine smiled. "I am? I usually thought I need to change something. My sister has always been so much prettier than me, I thought if I was as small as her..." Ukraine looked down again, once more ashamed of what she had done to herself.

"Don't." He moved his hand to her face and lifted it back up and locked his eyes with hers. "You are just fine the way you are. I-I think you're... perfect." His usual pale skin turned to a deep shade of red. "I'm not used to k-kind or loving words, but that's honestly what I think."

Ukraine's eyes were wide in shock. The person she had feelings for had actually loved her too. "I think you are good at loving words..." was the only thing she could think to say.

His hand moved onto her thin one. Smiling, he said "I'll go tell them that you're awake. And we can see when you can go home." Ukraine nodded.

Things were finially looking up for her.

* * *

 **Okay, so I know this is supposed to be character death one shots, but I was asked to let her live in the request so I let it slide. I still think this was good. I don't think I be doing anymore where I let them live, so if you don't want anyone to die in a request you have, I suggest you just don't send in the request. I don't mean to be rude, I just would rather stick to my original plan.**

 **But I you have a request be sure to add the things I have listed in the very first chapter and I'll see what I can do.**

 _ **Kiitos~**_


	3. Chapter 3:Romano

**Request from** **Calistrophia:**

 **Romano**

 **You should already know this, but this chapter has Romano in it. Don't be surprised if you see any swears.**

* * *

Romano glared at his younger brother. "What the hell am I supposed to do about that?" Veneziano frowned. "I don't know, that's why I asked you! You're smarter than me!" Romano wanted to stand up and slap his brother, but knowing that whatever injury he gave him would stay, he sat back.

They had just been told that until one of them resigned from their position as Italy, they would both be mortal. Very soon, one Italy would remain. "I can't fucking believe they chose _now_ of all times to do this. We can't even resign unless one of us... dies. And neither of us want to die so I don't know what the hell to do about it..." Romano was angry at the decision that had been made too quickly. He was more afraid than anything, but he would never tell anyone that. "Why do we even have to do this? There's always been two of us! Why can't it stay that way?" Veneziano was definitely afraid, and didn't mind showing that. "I don't want to lose you!" He hugged his older brother. "Who said _you_ were going to lose _me_? I'm not killing myself!" He shoved Veneziano off him.

"B-but I don't want to die either! And I don't mean to sound rude but everyone calls me Italy anyways!" Romano eyes widened. "...But who says it has to be me!? J-just because people like you better doesn't mean I have to kill myself! All because of your precious reputation!" Romano's face got red as he continued yelling. "What gives you the damn right to say I should die just because you're better than me?" Finally letting tears fall, Romano grabbed his brothers shoulders. "I don't want you to die, but I can't die either." Veneziano moved the hands away from his shoulders. "We can talk about this tomorrow, okay? We can't worry about something we have a while to worry about. As long as we don't take the rest of the year. No aging is allowed to be done to either of us." He tried to smile. "Lets go to bed. And maybe talk about it tomorrow."

Romano nodded. "I guess that's better than worrying too much right now."

* * *

Romano couldn't sleep no matter how hard he tied. He moved around on the large bed he occasionally shared with Veneziano. But he wanted to stay as far away from his brother as possible. Stupid paranoia. "I need some damn sleep. I don't want to keep thinking about this." He jumped off his bed. "I'll take a quick walk outside and _then_ I'll be tired." He pulled on a jacket before opening his front door and walking into the cold night air.

 _'I'm not that good at taking my mind off things so maybe I should just go over what Veneziano and I will do.'_ He thought. It was true, under too much pressure, he got too 'excited'. If, of course, that would even be the right word to describe the horrible feeling. Hell, he could even kill Veneziano while he slept! But the guilt he would feel would stay with him. And he already felt bad about other things.

Romano walked passed a boats dock. He shrugged and sat by it. He looked down at the water below him. "Why does this even have to happen?" He frowned, not moving his eyes from the water. "We've always been two separate halves of Italy. I know there's no need for two, but there's no need for one either."

 _But everyone else fared well on their own._ He tried to ignore that thought. "Besides, we need each other. I don't care about anyone else. I d-don't want to lose him any less than he doesn't want to lose me. But I value my life... Don't I?" That was definitely something questionable. "What do I have? I'm not loved by all the people that love Veneziano. I don't have all the skills he does. Everyone has leaves me eventually. I might as well leave them." No! No, what was he thinking! He would be missed! Everyone would miss him and regret not being nicer to him! So why did he have to die? "No I deserve more than Veneziano does..." Romano choked back tears. "And I have friends. People who care about me." He looked at the sky. "I'd be missed more, right?"

"Sure just keep telling yourself that Romano." Water crashed around at his feet. "Damn water..." He muttered, standing up. "I hate this. I hate it all." He started to walk away from the dock when- "I can't do that. No. I don't need to. I'm not going to be the one dying over this." He started walking again.

He stopped.

"It would come to this anyways. What's the point in stalling?" He turned and ran back to the edge. Romano looked down at the water again. "Damn it I don't want to do this. I what else can I fucking do?"

He moved a little closer to the edge. "Veneziano is better than me anyways."

Closer.

"And people will help him when he's confused with how to do work alone."

His toes were over the edge.

"I have too much stupid pride to ask for help."

He started leaning down.

"Italy Veneziano would be happy with being alive anyways."

He let one more tear fall, before jumping off the edge off the dock.

He landed in the cold water, and immediately, waves crashed over him.

 _'Good riddance South Italy Romano.'_

He could imagine people saying it already. No one would miss him. And Veneziano would be grateful that he didn't have to die.

Romano's lungs filled with water.

* * *

Veneziano walked into the kitchen to start breakfast. Romano never wanted to cook for anyone but himself, so Veneziano gladly took the house job.

"Romano, I made you pasta! I know you get annoyed when I make too much, but this is good, I promise. Besides, I'll eat what you don't." He walked into his brothers room, only to find the person we was looking for to be missing. "Romano? Where are you?I made food~!" Nothing.

"I'll leave this here. I guess he doesn't want to talk to me after last night-"

 _Last night_

"Oh my god if he's not anywhere else in the house he must have left! He can't leave without me! What if either of us gets hurt? We have to help each other, not leave each other!"

After a quick search of the house, Veneziano was close to tears. "He left the house! What if he gets hurt?" He threw his jacket on, noticing that Romano's jacket was missing from the coat rack. "Please be okay..." He whispered before going to search for his older brother.

* * *

Seychelles was humming and sitting on the shore of her islands. "Ah~ What a nice day. " The sun shone down on the ocean, making it sparkle. She smiled, loving the sight.

She sighed and stood up. "I'd better get back to work." Along with the work her boss did, she had a fair amount of work herself. A wave crept up to her leg as she walked away, and-

 _What was that?_

Seychelles jumped as something, other than the wave, touched her foot. She turned around and nearly screamed. Romano's body had somehow washed up to the shores of her country. "H-how did you get here..?" She bent over to look at Romano's body. "He can't still be alive... Oh, what happened?"

 _Ring_

 _Ring_

Seychelles pulled her ringing phone out of her pocket, not taking her eyes of Romano. "H-hello?" She stuttered. "Seychelles! Have you seen Romano anywhere? I've called almost everyone and no one has seen him!" _Veneziano?_ "Y-yes I'm looking at him right now. What happened to him?" She asked him. "What do you mean what happened? I haven't seen him since last night! What did he do to himself?" Veneziano asked, shaking. "He... Why did he drown himself?" She could hear sobs coming from the other end of the phone. "H-he wasn't s-supposed to d-do that! We needed to t-talk about it!" Veneziano tried to talk. "We had been told yesterday t-that one of us had to r-resign from being Italy. And we had to talk about who would be the one to d-die. He d-didn't even tell me he was going out, I w-would have f-followed him!"

Seychelles felt horrible for him. He hadn't even been able to say goodbye to his brother. He had disappeared, and killed himself. "I-I'm going to your country, I n-need to see him." Seychelles grabbed Romano's paled wrist to keep the waves from dragging him back out to sea. "Of course, I don't mind."

* * *

Veneziano had arrived in Seychelles quickly, and immanently wanted to find his brother. He pulled out his phone and called the island nation. "Where are you, I want to see Romano." He asked as soon as she answered. "I have him at my house, you remember where that is right?" "Yes, I'll be there soon." He hung up and made his way to the house she lived in.

"I didn't know he'd even do something like this." Veneziano held his brothers hand.

"I don't want to live without you..."

* * *

 **I didn't know how to end it, so I have you a bad ending, sorry.**

 **I don't like this chapter. I don't cry often and this was a bit much for me. Why did I choose to write this? Oh well.  
**

 **This chapter reminds me of a song. Listen to Drown by Get Scared after this. It's makes it even sadder(IN MY OPinIoN i'm not always right).**

 **I HAVE ONE MORE THING TO SAY!**

 **I realized that for requests, I should set up _two small_ rules.**

 **1\. If you have more than one request that's fine, send in as many as you want. Just don't send in so many that other people don't get a chance to send something in because one person is asking too much of me.**

 **2\. If I've already written about someone, they cannot be requested again. Take** ** **Romano** for example. I just wrote about him, some no more** ** **Roma** requests.**

 **Anyways, those are my little rules. So add them with what I ask for in the first chapter for requests, and there ya go.**

 _ **Kiitos~**_


	4. Chapter 4:Denmark

**Requested by littleflower54276408:**

 **Denmark**

 **(NO ONE WAS SUPPOSED TO SUGGEST NORDICS THEY ARE TOO PERFECT FOR DEATH oh well)**

* * *

"Wait, why are you leaving? Denmark tried to stop Iceland as he grabbed his belongings. "I don't need you anymore. I'm strong enough to be alone and to be honest I'm just annoyed with you." Denmark frowned. _Is that the only reason people left? He was 'annoying'?_

"I'll be fine on my own, and you will too. You don't need me for you to be 'the king of Scandinavia'." Iceland walked out of the house. "You'll be fine or something. Call one of your precious drinking buddies. You seemed to like their company more than mine anyways." He closed the door, leaving Denmark alone.

"I-I haven't been alone for so long..." Denmark walked around his now empty house. He looked at all the rooms that this friends used to live in. When they were all together. But now? He was alone. and this was something he was far from used to. He'd been thought some hard times, but he was never _alone_.

"They've finally all left. You should've seen this coming." He told himself. "Don't be so surprised. It was bound to happen." The house was so quiet. "You never treated them badly." Wait- "Not often at least."

"Suck it up, they have their own lives. They don't need you..." Room by room, memories of things they had done together when they were younger flooded his mind.

There was a patched up hole in the wall from when Denmark had punched it while fighting Sweden. He smiled. His hand bled a little, but not even a wall could stop him from punching people.

Denmark swung his arm back and punch another hole in the wall in the same spot the old one was at. "Screw memories." He walked around the house, finding other holes and dents made in the walls. "I can just recreate them myself. I don't need other people. I'm just fine alone." He found his axe and used it for the damage he was making. "Who needs them? I sure as hell don't." He went to bring his axe down on a wall in a hallway, but stopped when he noticed the picture hanging there.

He remembered taking this picture. It took a while to convince Iceland to join them, but in the end Denmark could tell he didn't mind it.

Without any care about the nice memory, Denmark swung the axe against the picture. Now that everyone was gone, he had no need for it. He wanted all the bitter-sweet thoughts to go away.

Denmark set the axe beside him, and looked at the sharp end. He put his finger against it and slid it down. Blood slowly seeped from the cut on his finger. Of course, he didn't mind it. He slid the blade down to his palm and kept cutting downwards. By the time he'd made it to his wrist, he'd realized what he had been doing. Blood poured from his hand. But the thought didn't bother him. He started moving the axe down again, stopping at his forearm, and then moving back up to the top. He knew people never cut themselves vertically, but it drew more blood, which was a sight he didn't mind seeing. In fact he wanted to see it. It made the pain of earlier drown out from the stinging on his arm.

Denmark leaned against the wall behind him, as the blood loss made him dizzy. But he kept going. The feeling so much better than anything else.

 _One cut an a time._

 _One memory lost to the numbness._

 _No more pain._

Denmark closed his eyes and smiled, letting the pool of blood grow.

* * *

Iceland walked back into the house. He hadn't been gone for more that 3 hours and was already back. Just his luck, he had forgotten to get his old clothes from the attic. And his where the only ones left in there besides Denmark's, and since everyone else had taken theirs, he wanted to continue the 'tradition'.

"Denmark? I only came back for my old clothes. I forgot them here." He walked down the hall. "Are you asleep? Why the hell are you so quiet?"

He turned corners, walking though the large house. "Hello..?"

"Back so soon?"

Iceland turned around another hall. "Denmark? W-what did you do to yourself..?" Iceland ran up to Denmark, not knowing what to do for him. "Oh nothing. I just thought of the past." He looked at the walls and down at his arm.

"No... no. You've never done this. Why did you-"

"Because," Denmark cut Iceland off. "You don't need me, they don't need me. Hell, I don't even need me. So I figured, I could finish myself off."

"Wait, you can't die. Why would you try to if-" He cut him off again. "I _can_. My country is weak right now, so what ever I do now, is permanent. I took the opportunity. And to be honest, I kind of like it. You don't do this though, no matter how nice it feels."

Iceland was at a loss for words. _How the hell could this happen? Was it his fault for leaving? Does this mean he, and everyone else, will never see Denmark again?_

"Come here, you're not dying. I'll help you." Denmark moved away. "I don't need you to help me. I don't want help."

"But you _need_ help. I'm not going to let you die."

"Damn it just leave."

"Your too proud for your own good."

"I know. Everyone says that. But to be honest, even if you tried to help you'd be too late." He felt his limbs go numb. "Just leave... and tell Norway I'm sorry." His blood flow slowed and he stopped breathing.

"You'd better not be messing with me, wake up." Iceland shook Denmark's shoulders. "Wake up, idiot."

 _Nothing._

"Shit..." Iceland ran out of the house, he didn't want to be in the house alone anymore.

He didn't want to be alone.

No one does.

The deed is done.

* * *

 **I'm kind of proud of that ending. I tried my best to make the whole thing realistic. I tried.**


	5. Chapter 5:Prussia

**Request from: Guest**

 **Prussia**

 **Slight PruHun, as requested.**

* * *

"SHEIβE! That's the third time today!" Prussia spit whatever blood was left in his mouth into the sink. For several weeks, this had been happening. He'd start to cough up blood. This, of course, had never happened before. And Prussia was sure it would just pass eventually. But, just his luck, it hasn't.

He washed the blood away and walked out of the bathroom. "As long as no one knows, I'll be fine." He smiled to himself and went to find Germany. Maybe spending time with him will put him in better mood? They were brothers, after all.

"Hey, West! Where are you?" Prussia called to Germany.

"I'm in my office, but I'm busy." Germany sounded annoyed.

"You're never too busy for me! C'mon, I've got nothing to do and you seem stressed. You _defiantly_ want to spend time with me." Prussia said as he walked into the office.

"Maybe if you had all this work too, you understand why I can't spend all my time with you. Call over a micronation they always have less work. Maybe you should get used to being friends with them. I simply cannot do anything with all this work." Germany explained.

Prussia frowned. "Fine." He walked out of the office. "I'm not going to befriend a _micronation_ , but someones gotta be more fun than you." He grabbed his coat. "Here I go. Out into the cold, lonely streets." He listened for a response. "Without my brother." He slowly opened the door. "I might never come back." Prussia added dramatically. "Rude." He muttered before walking out the door.

Prussia had been walking aimlessly before deciding on who he'd bother- er... visit. And grace with his being. "I know! Hungary won't mind if I stop by." So, he set of for the Hungarian nation.

* * *

Hungary had just finished the light load of work she'd been given, and had planed on a quiet day by herself.

But, of course, Prussia had other plans.

"There you are!" He called from her kitchen. Hungary jumped, she hadn't known Prussia was in her house. "Why are you here? How did you even get in?" Prussia smirked. "I took West's key ring. And managed to find yours on it." He took out the key ring and swung it on his finger.

Hungary sighed. "Well leave. I was planning on no one being here and you're aren't exactly quiet enough for me to not notice you."

"You didn't notice I was here earlier." Prussia still had a smirk on his face.

"Fine. Stay. But if you bother me, I swear-"

"I don't need your frying pan lecture." Prussia interrupted.

"Just don't make noise." Hungary walked out of the kitchen to get started on her day.

* * *

"What part of 'don't make noise' did you not understand?!" Prussia had dropped a plate, thrown an orange out a window, and slammed a few doors. "I won't be paying for the window by the way! That's on you!"

Prussia laughed nervously. "W-well I don't exactly have any money." Hungary smiled. "Then you'll have to tell Germany why you need some of his money." Prussia tensed. "That's not the best idea. How about, we forget that happened? And that you always had a shattered window?" Hungary raised an eyebrow. "Yeah sure. Great idea. I won't mind my home getting too hot or too cold since its always been that way."

"I don't need sarcasm." Prussia walked past her. "I'll go ask West for that money. Right now, how about you-" Prussia was cut off by coughing. His hands wet up to his mouth and gasped for air between coughs.

"Prussia? Are you alright?" Prussia nodded, but quickly changed his mind, as blood appeared on his hands. Making sure Hungary didn't see that, Prussia walked to the bathroom to wash it off.

He finished with his coughing fit, and made sure he'd washed away any blood he had coughed up.

"I'd better get home. West probably misses me." He told Hungary. "You're sure you're fine? I don't want to find you laying on the ground outside."

"I'll be fine. It was just a few coughs. Oooh are you worried?" He joked. "N-no! I just don't want to move your dead body off the street." Hungary defended. "Makes sense." Prussia shrugged and pulled his coat back over his shoulders. "See ya!" He slammed the door as he left, causing the last of the glass from the broken window to come loose and fall. "Damn..."

* * *

"I'm home!" The house stayed quiet. "West? I broke a window and I need money to fix it. Hungary doesn't want to pay for it herself." He walked in the office. "You in here?"

A note?

Prussia picked it up.

 _'The Italians managed to get their curls stuck. Again. They called me to fix it, so I won't be back for while._

 _Don't touch any of my paper work while I'm gone.'_

Prussia threw the note in the trash bin. Of course he'd be tending to them. Couldn't someone else do it? Germany didn't have time for them when he had to be home! With Prussia! Not that he disliked them, but he was lonely. "As long as he's home within an hour."

An hour later, though, Germany still had not returned. "What could be taking so long?" He'd walked around the entire house, ate what little they had left in their fridge, and looked though papers that seemed to be unfinished. "Man, West has too much work." Prussia stood up, deciding to call his brother and ask where he was.

But was stopped once again by his throat tightening. The blood wasted no time staining his hands.

The kitchen sink was closest, so he turned on the faucet and rinsed his hands, quickly moving to is mouth, which was still dripping with blood and filling with every cough. He couldn't breath, and the blood made that even harder. He was a nation! This should've passed by now! But his country had fallen years ago. That shouldn't have anything to do with this, right?

 _Right?_

* * *

Germany came back to the house another hour later. Those two Italians were too much for him to handle sometimes. "Prussia, I'm home." Silence. That's strange. Usually Prussia would drop what he's doing to greet his brother, then ask him for something he didn't feel like doing himself.

"Prussia?" Nothing. "Where are y-" He frozen as he walked into the kitchen. His eyes stared at the body of his brother, laying on the floor, mouth dripping with blood.

* * *

"I really don't know what happened." Germany had asked Hungary to come over, soon after finding Prussia.

Hungary had sat with Germany, talking for a while. "Do you think we'd be able to find something in his diary? He still writes in that doesn't he? He's got centuries of books filled." That was all Hungary could suggest. "He might have written something about it in his diary. We can check." Germany stood up and took Hungary to the vault Prussia kept all his diary's in.

"Let's see... Here. This is the most recent one he's written in." Germany pulled a book from one of the shelves. Hungary looked at him, confused. "How do you know it's that one?" He showed her the cover. "The dates on the front are the estimated times he made for how long he'll use the book. June 14th 2013 though April 27 2018. Five years." He flipped through the pages, and found the recent pages.

 _September 10, 2016_

 _'It was just a little blood. I'll be fine. There's no way that a little blood can get to me. I've seen enough in my life. But I'd like to not do that again. Coughing up blood isn't very fun.'_

Was he sick?

 _September 19, 2016  
_

 _'Okay, this blood thing had been going for too long. Two weeks like this sucks. But I'll be fine. Just don't let West know. He'll get suspicious an concerned.'_

He's defiantly sick.

 _September 29, 2016  
_

 _'Damn this cough! It cannot beat me though!_

 _My throat hurts. Whatever!_

 _I wonder if this has to do with the fall of my country? I doubt it.'_

Why didn't he tell anyone?

 _October 5, 2016  
_

 _'I don't feel like writing, but this cough just comes and goes. It happened four times today! FOUR! It hurts to talk a little, but I don't care. I'll talk all I want! But this stupid thing hasn't gone away and it needs to!'_

"That was yesterday. He's been sick for weeks and didn't tell anyone." Germany and Hungary were in shock from what they had read. Prussia was sick. Prussia _knew_ he was sick. And yet he told no one.

* * *

 **Bad ending, I know. I couldn't think of a way to end this one. Don't question my time line either. Imagine Prussia dying in one year. How sad.**

 **Anyways, I've only got one request left until I'll need more, so be sure to send those in if you want.**


	6. Chapter 6: America

**Request From: Flip the Table**

 **America**

 **-Okei, I know someone wanted an Austria chapt** **er, and I was going to write it, but I didn't have enough info on what they wanted. So if you are the person who wanted an Austria chapter, I'll still write it, I just need a bit more info(maybe look back at the very first chapter for what I still need).**

 **-I'm not too proud about how this chapter turned out, I'm sorry if its not very good.**

* * *

America is fine. Happy. Energetic. Annoying, but everyone has an annoying friend, right?

America.

Alfred.

He's okay.

"No, I'm not..." America looked into his bathroom mirror. "Why did everyone think that? I'm _not_ okay. The way everyone's been treating me, why do they think I'm okay?"

America has always felt horrible about the things other nations would say.

"Fat."

"Annoying."

"Idiot."

That's not all America is, right?

"Of course everyone hates me." America walked away from his mirror. He walked toward his closet and reached out to open it. "...Wait. one more thing." He had hidden something in there, and hasn't let anyone open it yet.

He pulled out an envelope and placed it on his desk. "I'll need you."

America cleaned his bedroom, it had to look perfect. He didn't want a single thing out of place.

"O-okay. Done. I'm done." He returned to the closet. "I'm done. With everything." He opened the doors, reveling what he had prepared for himself. A gun and a chair. It shone from the times he had cleaned it.

He picked it up, and switched the safety off. "How stereotypical of me." America sat on the chair. "Stupid American." He lifted the gun towards his head. "Why did you smile though it all?" He felt tears forming in his eyes. "No use smiling now, idiot."

.

.

.

 _Bang!_

* * *

 _"_ America!" Canada had come to visit his brother to discuss something about trade. "We've got work to do and I know you're home." Canada sighed. "He'd probably sleeping." He walked up the stairs to the Americans bedroom. "America?" He opened the door. "America, where are- "

There...

There he is...

Blood dripping from the side of his head and a gun by his side.

He was dead.

Canada was shocked. Why would he have done this? He ran over to Americas body and held it. He hugged his brother and regretted never wanting to hug him in the past.

"Al I'm so sorry." He cried. "I didn't know you'd do this..." He stood up, knowing there was nothing more he could do.

That's when he noticed the envelope sitting on the desk in a corner of the room.

Canada already knew what it was. A suicide note. It would include why America had killed himself.

He picked it up and slowly opened the envelope and unfolded the paper inside.

 _'Hello._

 _If you've found this, congrats, you're probably the first person that knows I'm dead._

 _Well then, I have nothing to say to you. I won't apologize, I just want you to know, if you are sad about my death, you shouldn't be._

 _So many people treat me like trash. I'm just like you! A personification. But one with many enemies. I tried to make you all like me . I wanted you to enjoy my company. But you didn't. I'm better off gone, I know that's what you wanted anyways._

 _So, Goodbye._

 _~ United States of America,_

 _Alfred F. Jones'_

No, is this real? He wouldn't have. The happy, energetic fun-loving American had killed himself.

Canada gently placed the note back down on the desk. He sat America's body up, and wanted calmly out of the large home. He didn't want to tell anyone what had happened, but he had to. And he had to stay very calm as he told someone, most likely England, what had happened.

No one would take anyone for granted again.


End file.
